Anonymous · published 1591 · first performed or written 1591 [Aug 14] (Annals) entertainment; royal entertainment or entry · before the Court unassigned nearest T24 Apollo, Phoebus and the Muses · 400 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T24: apollo, phoebus, midas, muses, ears, play, hedone, gods, siren, time.
THe walls of Thebes were raised by Music: by music these are kept from falling. It was a prophesy since the first stone was laid, that these walls should shake, and the roof totter, till the wisest, the fairest and most fortunate of all creatures, should by her first step make the foundation stayed: and by the glance of her eyes make the Turret steady. I have been here a Porter many years, many Ladies have entered passing amiable, many very wise, none so happy. These my fellow Porters thinking there could be none such, fell on sleep, and so incurred the second curse of the prophesy, which is, never again to awake: Mark how they look more like posts than Porters, retaining only their shapes, but deprived of their senses. I thought rather to cut off my eye lids, then to wink till I saw the end. And now it is: for the music is at an end, this house immovable, your virtue immortal. O miracle of time, Nature's glory, Fortune's Empress, the world's wonder! Soft, this is the Poet's part, and not the Porters. I have nothing to present but the crest of mine office, this key: Enter, possess all, to whom the heavens have vouchsafed all. As for the owner of this house, mine honourable Lord, his tongue is the key of his heart: and his heart the lock of his soul. Therefore what he speaks you may constantly believe: which is, that in duty and service to your Majesty, he would be second to none: in praying for your happiness, equal to any. BEhold her locks like wires of beaten gold, her eyes like stars that twinkle in the sky, Her heavenly face not framed of earthly mould, Her voice that found'st Apollo's melody, The miracle of time, the world's story, Fortune's Queen, loves treasure, Nature's glory. No flattering hope she likes, blind Fortunes bait nor shadows of delight, fond fancies glass, Nor charms that do enchant, false arts deceit, nor fading joys, which time makes swiftly pass But chaste desires which beateth all these down, A Goddess look is worth a Monarch's crown. Goddess and Monarch of his happy Isle, vouchsafe this bow which is an huntress part Your eyes are arrows though they seem to smile which never glanced but galled the stateliest heart, Strike one, strike all, for none at all can fly,
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
THe walles of Thebes were raiſed by Muſicke: by muſick theſe are kept from falling. It was a propheſie ſince the first ſtone was layde, that theſe walles ſhould ſhake, and the roofe totter, till the wiſest, the fairest and moſt fortunate of all creatures, ſhould by her firſt ſteppe make the foundation ſtaid: and by the glaunce of her eyes make the Turret ſteddie. I haue beene here a Porter manie yeeres, many Ladies haue entred paſsing amiable, many verie wiſe, none ſo happie. Theſe my fellow Porters thinking there could bee none ſuch, fell on ſleepe, and ſo incurde the ſeconde curſe of the propheſie, which is, neuer againe to awake: Marke how they looke more like poſtes then Porters, reteining onlie their ſhapes, but depriued of their ſences. I thought rather to cut off my eie liddes, then to winke till I ſaw the ende. And now it is: for the muſick is at an end, this houſe immoueable, your vertue immortall. O miracle of time, Natures glorie, Fortunes Empreſſe, the worlds wonder! Soft, this is the Poets part, and not the Porters. I haue nothing to preſent but the creſt of mine office, this keie: Enter, poſſeſſe all, to whom the PDF PAGE 119 heauens haue vouchſafed all. As for the owner of this houſe, mine honourable Lord, his tongue is the keie of his heart: and his heart the locke of his ſoule. Therefore what he ſpeakes you may conſtantlie beleeue: which is, that in duetie and ſeruice to your Maieſtie, he would be ſecond to none: in praieng for your happineſſe, equall to anie. BEhold her lockes like wiers of beaten gold, her eies like ſtarres that twinkle in the skie, Her heauenly face not framd of earthly molde, Her voice that founds Apollos melodie, The miracle of time, the worlds ſtorie, Fortunes Queen, Loues treaſure, Natures glory. No flattering hope ſhe likes, blind Fortunes bait nor ſhadowes of delight, fond fanſies glaſſe, Nor charmes that do inchant, falſe artes deceit, nor fading ioyes, which time makes ſwiftly pas But chaſt deſires which beateth all theſe downe, A Goddeſſe looke is worth a Monarchs crowne. Goddeſſe and Monarch of his happie Ile, vouchſafe this bow which is an huntreſſe part Your eies are arrows though they ſeeme to ſmile which neuer glanſt but gald the ſtatelieſt hart, Strike one, ſtrike all, for none at all can flie,